Skip the Goodbyes
by Missus Ann
Summary: Saying goodbye was never an easy thing. So instead, they say Goodnight.


Skip the Goodbyes

_Why me?_ That's all Allen could ask himself. It's not like all he did was sit around all day, pitying himself and crying enough to fill up three thousand lakes with his tears, though he could if he wanted to. Instead, you could find him moping around the order all day, never able to take his mind off _him_. It seemed like every time the boy saw _him, _the time got shorter and shorter, forcing them to come apart quicker and quicker. But that was nothing. What else could he do in a day but to sit and think about what _he _was doing? Nothing. All the boy's mind could come up with was thoughts of the person that his heart longed to be with, proving that, yet again, the body parts do work together. The boy loved _him _far more than he could love anyone, actually.

Who exactly was _he_? _He _was the one that Allen wished to spend all his time with, for his smiles when he was with _him _were always much _brighter_. So much more vivid than they could ever be when he was alone. Now, Allen could spend many days with him, but that required him to stay in the hospital. For _he _was very sickly, so staying in the hospital at all times was a must. But Allen hated being there. Allen couldn't bare to see people suffer. When someone was dying, he couldn't look away. He couldn't get himself to stop staring into their eyes, watching them ice over slowly. He couldn't stop the tears, or move at all, except his thumb which was slowly stroking over their hand, his mouth whispering bittersweet lies of things like "_It's okay_". It wasn't okay, though. It was _never _okay. Allen could just tell when someone was going to die, too. He saw all their pain and suffering, and he even saw their spirits after death.

It pained him, though. He didn't want to see _that man_ end up like the others. He knew it was bound to happen, and that it would end his suffering, but when it came to _him_, Allen found himself to be a very selfish person. He knew that other people had to go through the same things with their loved ones, even if not at a young age like himself, but he somehow found it unfair. Why was the only person that he loved, and that he could remember loving him being taken away? What had he done that had been so inappropriate for a situation that he deserved to be punished in such a horrifying manner? Sure, he occasionally told little white lies to _him_, like the time when he broke the lamp as a young child, scared that he'd get in trouble, and used a lie to escape, only for _him _to find out and not yell at him anyway.

Allen was shocked when he heard the news. He was shocked, and scared, and worried. _He_ had just gotten off the phone with his boss, and he smiled at the boy brightly. "Allen, I'm going to be leaving for a short time," _he_ paused, then started with, "I'll come back safely. I promise." It was obvious when _he_ was lying and when he was telling the truth. _He_ was always hesitant when _he_ was lying, and really straightforward when _he_ was telling the truth.

"But Mana, you're sick! You can't go! You have to lay down!" Allen pretended not to know. He knew that if he told Mana that he could tell such things, Mana would be worried. And Mana couldn't handle it. But Allen also knew that if Mana so much as got up for over a day, his death would come much faster. The white-haired child did not _want _Mana to die sooner. He wanted Mana to stay with him, to be safe for just a little longer, and wanted him to be unharmed. But that couldn't happen. When Mana was set on something, he _had_ to do that thing. It was just the way things worked with him.

The older male smiled softly at the boy that was by his bedside. "I have to go, Allen. It's for work. Don't you want to eat?" No. Allen's answer was no, and would remain no, if it meant that Mana's life would have to be shorter. He'd rather die of starvation, or the plague, than have Mana die because of him. Imagine being in his shoes. Loving someone so much, and being a very caring person, and the person you loved the most was dying. Now, would you care about your life, or his life? Would you, with the mind of a seven-year-old, want him to die because of you? Now, Allen wasn't naive. He knew that if Mana died a few days sooner than what his death date was supposed to be, and he went to go to do his work, it was Allen's fault. He knew that Mana was trying to survive, and only for him. Allen's mind couldn't begin to start the thinking process of how he would survive without his guardian. It simply couldn't manage; it was in a far off, foreign galaxy that Allen's mind was so far away from reaching.

By the time that Allen's mind had stopped trapping him in his thoughts, Mana had managed to sneak out of the hospital, leaving the boy alone in the room. _Allen, come play with us... _They taunted. They always messed around with his head. They didn't care who he was, or why he was in the hospital, but they knew that he could see them. They knew that the poor child could sense their sorrow, and that it tortured him to see such sad individuals. They knew that it burned in the pit of his stomach to know the pain that they felt, whether he knew them or not. It picked at his heart and ate away at his soul, tormenting his very existence, and all for the pleasure of their leader. He seemed to like picking on the boy, as if he knew that the boy would end up being one of his worst enemies sometime in the future, or something.

But that didn't matter. Why would it matter? He thought that there was nothing he could do to save them. And at the time, there was nothing that he could do. _It's just spirits... _Allen forced himself to think, and calmly, at that, but what could that do? Normal children would be running to their parents, their bodies shaking and their bottom lips quivering at times like this. But Allen didn't fit into such a category of frail children. He was strong. He knew he was strong. And it was all because he had Mana beside him. But when Mana was gone, what would he do? How would he continue being strong? He could set up a shield, and wear a mask, that's for sure, but his sense of security, if it stayed, would be false. He would act calm and composed, only to be looking around for signs of danger with any noise that he heard. It'd be like getting a child that just saw their puppy dog get put to sleep to be happy; something that was nearly impossible.

After about a week of Allen laying in his foster father's hospital bed, limp and scared, the man came back. Allen jerked his head up from the pillow immediately, and forced a charming smile onto his lips; yet another set of lies that he was giving to the man that he cared so much about. But Mana was not stupid. He was tired, and hungry, and weak, and he missed Allen, but he was not stupid. He dropped his bag and walked – more like stumbled – over to Allen, and toppled onto the bed. "Allen, what's wrong?" Allen sat up all the way, and leaned his face into his father's chest. Silently, and slowly, the boy managed to soak the part of Mana's shirt that was in between the boy and his father. Mana noticed this, and it was then that he realized it. Allen _knew_ how weak he was. Allen knew how every time Mana got up, it hurt to breathe, and it hurt to move. And yet he continued to act like everything was fine.

"It's nothing, Mana, really," Allen let out, yet another false lie being fed to his dad. The only thing that was fine is that now he was there to comfort the boy. Mana prodded some more, but Allen kept sprouting lies, though they weren't convincing anyone. They weren't even convincing himself, which is more of what he hoped for than to make his father think everything was perfectly fine when everything was so frankly not. When Allen gradually pulled away, Mana wiped the tears from his eyes, and gave the boy a questioning glance. "I-It's nothing."

Mana gave him one of those weird looks. "Now, Allen, if nothing's wrong, then why do you look so sad? I can see through your masks, Allen. You should know that." Mana looked down at his foster child, and smiled gently. Oh, how Allen hated those moments sometimes. These were the moment in which he wondered how that man deserved what he was getting. He was always a kind man, and he was a great father, too. Allen really shouldn't think about these things. They worried him greatly, and they made him start to wonder how someone like himself deserved to be the foster son of a man like Mana. It's not that he had done anything wrong; he was just outcast by most society for his messed up arm, and the scar that was under his eye.

The next day, when Allen walked into Mana's hospital room after school, he was devastated. Mana was breathing heavily. "Mana?" No answer. "Mana, what's wrong?!" Allen ran over to the bed and sat next to him.

Allen grabbed his hand and tried to smooth the wrinkles on the back of Mana's hand. Allen's eyes spilled out tears, and he froze. "Goodnight..." Mana said. It was an old habit. It was always too hard to say goodbye, so instead he just said goodnight.

_Gone. _

Mana Walker was _gone.

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**A/N: UH. Yeah, this is for Dan. C: I hope it's okay, and that it's packed full of enough DRAMA for you. Also, this is AU (If you couldn't tell) and Allen got his power before Mana died. For various reasons. w; I hope you enjoyed it. 8D **


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